


Peaches & Cream: A Knight Asahi Fanfic

by pantslesspanic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Blacksmith Reader, Bondage, Chains, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Knight Asahi, Light Choking, Light Dom/sub, Oral, Size Kink, Smut, Sub Azumane Asahi, Suspension Bondage, XReader, as usual I don't know how to tag, sword fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantslesspanic/pseuds/pantslesspanic
Summary: Years ago you loved a knight named Asahi. He was everything you wanted, and everything you needed... Until he left.The years hardened your heart and strengthened your soul. You've tried your best to forget that fleeting romance of your youth, wanting to focus on your skills as a renowned blacksmith.And all is well... Until he comes back.Entry for the Yagami Yato Fanfic Event November 2020Discord: em |#9985
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Reader
Kudos: 34
Collections: Yagami Yato Fanfic Event: November 2020





	Peaches & Cream: A Knight Asahi Fanfic

You roll your shoulders back, stretching the aching muscles and relieving some of the pent up tension. You’ve been working solid all day, sparing time only to eat. Your mentor, the official blacksmith for the kingdom, is away by request of King Tobio and you’ve been left to manage the slowly piling orders. With every strike of the forging hammer, you’re glad you took him up on the apprenticeship offer all those years ago. Daichi has taught you well, the weaponry and armour you produce is immaculate and word of your skill has spread to neighbouring kingdoms. 

The only trouble with being admired for your trade is you hardly have time to stop, which only gets worse the more Daichi is pulled away. You waved him off last night, sneaking out of the town while it’s quiet, packs of swords hiked on his shoulder and a satchel of armour for a neighbouring prince resting under the other. You’d almost offered to arrange for a horse and cart to help him, but after a glance to his swollen, tan biceps you shrugged away the thought. 

The afternoon sun beats down on you through the shutters, the wood not straight or aligned enough to completely seal you away from the heat. The sun doesn’t compare to the furnace, but at least the furnace won’t burn you just for being in it’s light. 

You bring down the hammer one more time, the ring of the steel echoing around you, and decide you need to relax. The hammer clangs to the ground, you know you’ll regret tossing it when you have to pick it up, but that’s a problem for later. 

Wiping the darkened sweat from your forehead with a damp rag, you pull open the failing shutters and embrace the cool breeze. The street is bustling with sellers at market stalls, traders, the occasional tourist, and formally dressed palace guards. They’re relatively harmless, the guards. They just like to patrol to ensure the people are safe and peace is being maintained. You respect their work and often wished you’d buckled down and applied to the kingdoms ranks, to become a knight like your child-self had dreamed. 

But that ship sailed years ago. Sailed away with your dreams and a man with chestnut hair and warm smile. Even if you weren’t too old to become a knight anyway, the thought of running into him again made your chest ache and eyes water. 

You look down at your rag and sigh, knowing it’s trivial to delve into such memories. You bury those times as much as you can, wanting to forget everything. Wanting to forget him. He took your heart with him, wherever he went, and you hope he keeps it and himself there and far away from you. 

He’d sworn he’d never leave. You’d been so fragile back then, worried for your future and afraid of your past, he was the only constant that kept you grounded. It’d been a week after he disappeared that Daichi offered to promote you from assistant to apprentice, taking a weight off your shoulders. You need a skill - a trade - to survive, to be employable and usable and you had nothing. Hell, you couldn’t even read for most of your early life. 

He’s the one that taught you… It’s when you fell for him. He’d sneak you into the palace late at night, his armour gone and heart on his sleeve, and you’d both hunch over books until the sun peeked over the horizon. You remember the first day you caved into your craving of him. You nuzzled against him, the scent of peaches from his mother’s farm clinging to him, and let your fingers graze his. His breath had shuddered.

It wasn’t a few moments later you were sprawled against the desk, him hot between your legs and your moans drifting down the aisles of the library. The memory burns like the candles between the shelves, turning sour with age and blackening in your mind. He was your first and only love, you gave him everything. You swore you’d marry him someday… Back when you believed in such a concept. 

Since his disappearance, since your heartbreak, you want none of it. You don’t want to wake up beside someone everyday. You don’t want someone to bring you breakfast or call you beautiful. You don’t want someone to fall in love with you, and you don’t want to share your soul. You’re done with it, and you’ve been done with it for years.

All you know now is the thrashing of steel and roar of the furnace, and you are content. But then there are moments when your own guard slips and you are alone with yourself. Some nights you can’t help but miss his soft touch, the gentleness he has beneath the tough knight exterior. He was aiming to be in the King’s personal guard. One of the five men that were beside him whenever requested, but were granted more freedom than regular guards are permitted. He would have been allowed to be with you, to have the freedom of love and a life outside the palace walls. But then he left. 

It all boils down to that one unmistakable, unchangeable fact. He left. He disappeared. And you were alone. 

You’d even asked around the docks and registers, seeing who departed the kingdom and whether there were a large group of knights travelling. But there were no records and no travel permits you could find that alluded to the where and why. It took you several months before you gave up your search. And the giving up hurt harder than the loss. 

To be able to conclude that you’d lost the one person you’d learned to love, to not become content but to accept that this was your future, it ate you up. It tore and scratched at your ribcage and took a piece of you out. A piece you’ve not seen since. But the pain remains, no matter what you do to soothe it. 

You’re hardly aware of your face starting to burn under the setting sun, not bothering to care that your nose is most definitely going red under the light layer of soot. You stay there, staring at the ground beneath your window, until you convince yourself to stop feeling. To go back to work and distract yourself from this mess that is your memory. 

Eventually you shove away from the window, the sun now completely eclipsed by the palace and turn back to your workshop. You don’t bother to light any candles even though you’ll be working late into the night. The orange glow of the furnace is enough to illuminate everything you need. 

To give your poor arms and shoulders a much needed rest, you begin to tidy the workshop so you can find things as you need them for once. You collect your worn butcher’s block brushes in an old pale, hang your different forge hammers on the rack on the wall, and sweep any trace of wood chips from the floor. Sweeping is something you do hourly, permanently petrified of the workshop catching fire. 

As you sweep your head whacks into something, and you look up scowling at one of the chains that hang from the ceiling. Grumbling curses at the old metal, you curl it up and hook it so the chain is shorter and won’t bump your face. 

While you’re finishing your tedious, everyday chores, you hear the creak of the door and someone enters from behind you. Groaning at the thought of a new order, you bark, “We’re closed.” 

You’re going to sheath one of the new swords when you freeze at the sound of a deep, resonating voice from behind you saying, “I-I’m not here for a sword.” 

Petrified where you stand, your brain rattles while trying to comprehend what the exact fuck is going on. It can’t be him. It just can’t be. You’d believe the fucking King would walk in before he did. But that voice, smooth and coaxing like warm velvet, is unmistakable. 

Your hand tightens on the hilt of the sword, pausing with the tip barely grazing the slip of the sheath. You take a breath to calm yourself, ignoring the fact that your arms are trembling, and look up at someone you thought you’d never see again. 

“Asahi…” You whisper, voice surprisingly steady as you take him in. 

He’s not in his armour. Just a cream tunic unlaced a little too loosely, and tight black britches that come up to the middle of his stomach. He’s bulkier than you remember. Strong, capable muscles pressing against his clothing and tightening as he stares at you. 

That hair you used to love to touch, to stroke late at night while he told you about his family and their farm, is much longer and tied back against the base of his neck. It hangs in a ponytail looking as silky-smooth as ever, with some strands falling against his face. 

He also now has a small beard on his chin, trimmed and neat as if he spends meticulous time making it look presentable. Biting the inside of your cheek you finally dare to look into his eyes. That welcoming, warm brown that is a comfort in its own right. You can feel your chest compress at the sight of him, filling with an indescribable pain that makes you want to keel over and gasp. Which would be easier if you could move under his stare. 

Asahi shifts nervously, bumping the sword at his hip with his hand, and not knowing what to do. You only watch, like a startled fawn caught by a hunter while he figures out what to do. You clench your teeth as he licks his bottom lip, cautious as he looks down for a moment then back up as he says, “I’m back, Pumpkin.” 

You drop the sheath and spin on instinct, training the point of the sword to his throat where you won’t hesitate to slash. How fucking dare he. After all these years, you hadn’t heard the nickname and it took an incomprehensible amount of time to be able to eat pumpkins again. Even worse when you bought from your favourite grocer, a man from another country who called them ‘ _ calabazita’ _ like Asahi once had. He’d called you that when you were cross, when ‘pumpkin’ wasn’t enough. He’d learned it at the palace.

You feel your lip twitch, the only visible sign of your burning fury until you say, “You do  _ not  _ get to fucking call me that.” 

He holds his hands up, eyes widened and lips parted, trying to figure out what to say. “I know I didn’t say goodbye…” 

“Goodbye?  _ Goodbye?! _ ” You can’t help the outburst. Several years of grieving and bottling has led to this. He’s going to know exactly what he did to you. But what you probably shouldn’t be doing is charging at him with a freshly sharpened sword in hand. 

To his credit, he’s a quick response. He draws out his own sword and meets yours in a crash. Tears are forming in your eyes as you press against him, close enough to inhale that sweet smell of peaches you’d tried to forget. It’s sweet and clings to him like honey, intoxicating you all over again. He’s been to see his mother, that’s the only way it could be this strong. 

You notice the leather guards on his wrists, remembering the way he’d let you wear them to see the size difference between you, and your anger erupts again. You shove him off with your strength and let out a cry as you lunge, swinging your sword in a curve to hit him in the side which he counters swiftly. 

He continues to parry your attacks, ducking and weaving fluidly while all you can manage are aggressive thrusts and jabs. Asahi keeps stepping out of your path, your following footwork dancing around the entire workshop. He’s patient while you scream wordlessly, knowing that you need to get this fury out of your system. 

It’s not a dry anger, it’s filled with every emotion you’re capable of processing. You’d like to blame the lack of vocal expression on your minimal exposure to literacy, but in reality you know it’s just because you’re confused. 

But the more he weaves away, the way he remains absolutely calm continues to push you. And soon enough you snap, “ _ You fucking left! _ ” 

He falters when you speak, frowning in concern as tears begin to trickle down your ash-covered cheeks. You throw a leg out, intending to force him down on his backside, but he quickly steps out of your reach and makes you look a fool. 

You’re only enraged further by the lack of success. You want him to feel what you felt. You want Asahi clutching the space above his heart and screaming into the night while he’s left wondering why he’s earnt this. You want him to suffer as you had, as he left you high and dry with a broken dream and lack of self-respect. It’s not an exaggeration… You gave up  _ everything  _ for him, and you’d been happy. How could he leave? How could he whisper sweet promises of love and then run with them like a poisoned shadow?

You wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand, the fresh tears blurring your vision. The last thing you want to be doing is crying in front of him. He doesn’t deserve any more of your tears. If you’re being honest with yourself, he doesn’t even deserve this attack. 

To lash out requires a factor of care. It requires feelings you frequently command to stay dead, and one’s you’re not sure you’re capable of handling anymore. 

He’s not an idiot, he notices you crying, and throws his sword down in good faith. Holding his leather-wrapped hands in surrender, he pleads, “Pumpkin…  _ Calabazita…  _ Please, enough…” 

You cease your attacks, merely pointing the sword at him once more with a wobbling arm and say, “Get out.”

“Let me explain.”

“ _ No _ .” You bare your teeth ferociously. You want none of this. 

“You can slaughter me afterward, just please let me talk.” His brows furrow, eyes hopeful as he edges toward you, wanting to pry the deadly weapon out of your hands. You almost let him, almost slip the grip of your hatred. But then his rough fingertip grazes your knuckle and you lurch, kicking a heel into his shin and spinning out of his grip. 

You do drop the sword though, letting it clatter to the ground whilst you grab the chain you bumped into only mere moments before. You tug it with a harsh grunt, extending it while Asahi clutches his shin, not noticing you lean down and tightly wrap the iron chains around one wrist and tugging his arm above his head. 

“Wait-  _ Ah! _ ” he cries as you yank, the muscles becoming taught. You hardly breathe as you stand on your toes behind him, waiting until he reaches up to free his bound wrist to capture the other, twisting the chain to limit his movement and clasp the wrist together. 

With another circulation of chain you’re satisfied with the restriction, hooking the chain into itself again and out of his reach. A few steps behind you is the lever, and you crank it just enough to have Asahi balancing uncomfortably on his toes, arms tightly fastened above his head and biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. 

He looks to you in pure shock, eyes capturing the movements of your hips as you lean against your workbench and cross your arms. You wish you weren’t still crying, it takes the power away from your now-blank stare. 

Asahi clearly wasn’t going to leave without providing a story or needing medical attention, so you’ve decided to listen. But on your terms. You don’t want to give him any power over you. This is your territory, your playground, and he has to abide by  _ your  _ laws. “Talk, Asahi.” 

“Is this really necessary?” He asks, tugging twice on the chain for good measure. 

You only shrug, saying, “I’d say it’s for my safety. But in reality, it’s for yours. I’m sure you’d rather your hands chained than removed if you dared to touch me further.” 

Doe eyes stare you down, chest noticeably heaving as he takes some deep breaths. You restrain your smirk, satisfied knowing he’s mad at you. It’s the least of what he deserves, but you do admit there’s a dark satisfaction in seeing him restrained before you. There’s a vulnerability in his position, compromising almost, and you flush lightly at the thought and bite down harshly on your cheek. The scent of fresh peach lingers in the air, mixing with your stench of sweat and hot iron. It’s a sweetness that rests on your tongue, letting you savour its taste and bask in the heat of memories. 

You look down to avoid his stare. He’s not even saying anything yet and you’re falling over yourself. Just like you once had. You’d kick yourself if it wouldn’t make you look insane. 

The more you’re stuck lingering in silence, you realise how bad of an idea this is. All it takes is another knight or an upstanding citizen to barge in and see this to report you. King Tobio would have your head before dawn if he saw what you’ve done to one of his knights. They’re untouchable, even for guards, and it could be considered treason to attack one. 

Sweat beads at your brow. This is a terrible idea. 

You’ve almost convinced yourself to be satisfied with unchaining him and barking until he leaves, but then he sighs, and you’re left frozen by his words. “I wanted to tell you… Before I left.” 

There’s only the crackling of the embers in the furnace between those words. Not a breath or a whisper to break the silence. You don’t blink, waiting for him to continue. 

“I was offered a place in the personal guard.” You can’t stop the sharp gasp that escapes your lips. He seems to relax at the sound, as if it’s confirmation that you’ve never stopped feeling for him. A betrayal on your part, a relief on his. 

“It was on one condition,” he adds, gaze resting on the ground whilst he tells you the story. “I was charged with guarding the King’s personal diplomat, Sugawara, as he travelled to the distant continent of Nekoma. It was a top secret mission.

“I’d asked for the opportunity to say goodbye, but they denied it. If I was successful in my mission, I’d be granted the position of personal guard, and free to marry who I wish…” 

Tears spring to your eyes instantly at the revelation. He hadn’t abandoned you. 

“I didn’t want to hope you’d wait for me. They told me it was uncertain how long I’d be gone, but I’d never expected it would be years. I begged and pleaded with Sugawara to let me send you a letter. Just one, to tell you that I thought of you everyday… And that everything I did, I did for you. But that was denied, too… He couldn’t afford the risk.”

“Asahi, I-”

“I wrote the letter anyway,” he interrupts, his own watery eyes settling back on yours. “I never got to deliver it, but I wrote it nevertheless.” 

The lump in your throat tightens, and you stand up straighter. “You have it, don’t you?” 

He nods behind him, movement barely legible around his bindings. “Back pocket. It’s sealed.” 

Like approaching a wild beast, you edge closer to him, arm outstretched as if he’ll bite. The larger part of you is screaming that you shouldn’t read the letter. Yes, he may not have been able to write to you, and he may have disappeared with good reason… But a few truth-laced words and drying tears doesn’t help you recover from years of distress and heartbreak. You suffered over this man. Your heart bled onto your mattress and you were left to teach yourself you didn’t need him in the end. And you’d done a good job. 

For the most part. 

He stops breathing as you reach into his pocket, cheeks flushed as you graze against his tight rear. If he doesn’t mention your touch, you can hold yourself together… At least that’s what you tell yourself. 

You pull the rumpled letter from his pocket, browned paper brittle with age and a wax seal that’s lost its grip. You’re not sure what you expected, but you didn’t expect him to be telling the truth. He really did write the letter. And he clearly wrote it a long time ago. 

You step away once more, refusing to look at him as your quivering fingers go to open it. A glimpse of fine script meets your gaze before you clamp it shut once more. You release a steady breath through parted lips. Is this what you want? 

You’d been so sure that if he ever returned, you wanted nothing to do with him. Despite his reasoning, and the rules that had been thrust upon him, Asahi still left you. You were vulnerable, enraptured with him, and willing to do anything to please him. 

It took such a long, painful time to teach yourself to stand on your own. To be a strong, independent woman that needn’t rely on a knight in shining armour to take care of you. And in thinking so, you know you have to read this letter. You know you  _ can _ read this letter, and it will not break you. 

It doesn’t stop you from nervously biting your lip, but the thoughts of encouragement convince you to pry open the dry parchment once more. With a pounding heart and furrowed brow, you begin to read: 

_ My Pumpkin,  _

_ To the fire of my soul,  _

_ The strength of my heart,  _

_ The purity of my love,  _

_ I hope you can forgive me someday.  _

_ Though I can’t touch you, I see you daily… I see you in the warmth of a new day’s sun, and in the glitter of a fresh pool of water. I see you in my sheets, wrapped like a gift and safe in my scent. I see you in the books I borrowed from the royal library, the one pleasure I was permitted to take.  _

_ I see you, calabazita, in everything I do… Everything I have… Everything I am.  _

_ When I was told I had to leave, without saying my farewell to you, I had tried to resign from my post. The thought of leaving you alone and unaware hurt a place so deeply inside me, I was ready to throw my life away. But it was the diplomat, Sugawara, who had convinced me to stay.  _

_ He told me he’d never seen a love so pure, so enlightening, that he offered me more. He said if I accompanied him, and waited, then my patience would be rewarded. Regardless of whether you still wanted me after this journey, you would never want again. You will be cared for and supported for the rest of your life, no matter the path you choose to take. He personally swore, before the King, that he would fulfill this oath.  _

_ Did it stop me from pestering him to contact you? Absolutely not.  _

_ But it left me determined.  _

_ There’s not much more I can say without breaking confidentiality. But know that I love you, pumpkin. More than you could possibly know, and I hope with everything I have, that you can forgive me.  _

_ Eternally Yours, _

_ Asahi _

Though you’re sure your heart stopped beating, it’s relentless thumping is echoing in your ears. Not knowing what else to do, you fold it neatly, and rest it on a cluttered bench before you. You brace your hands on the edge of the frayed wood and murmur, “I’m not the same naive girl, Asahi.” 

“You’re still the woman that has my heart. That will never change.” 

“I’m stronger.”

“You’ve always been strong. Even if you didn’t see it.” Your nails curl into the wood. 

“I was weak and in love.” 

A heartbeat of silence, then a quiet, “Love isn’t a weakness.” 

You want to snap at him, continue this bullshit bickering and convince yourself that you’re not filled with relief. In reality, you’re just reliving that hurt, that utter anguish you’d felt years ago that you’d convinced had passed. The thought that you’d chosen to shut everything out when he’d been working to return to you, to give you everything you could ever want… You felt selfish. 

You felt like you betrayed him. 

But that’s not fair on you, and it’s not fair on him. 

You shake your head lightly, a tear breaking loose and falling onto your hand. Who are you kidding? He’s always been the one that owned your heart. And he always will be. 

With a clench of your teeth you turn to face him, letting him see the tears cascading down your reddened cheeks. His brow is furrowed, lips parted as he hangs limp in the chains. You let your eyes wander over him again. 

He may be bigger, he may have a beard, and it may have been years… But you can’t deny that this is the Asahi you fell in love with deep in the heart of the castle amongst the dusty books and smell of melting wax. It’s the same face you’d stare at under the wilting candlelight, the one that would regard you like you’re a marvel of nature. 

The same look he’s giving you now. 

You can see his anxiousness climb with every silent moment, the decision weighing heavily on your shoulders. It would be so easy to simply forgive him for it all. So easy to relapse into that state of blind adoration for him, because you hadn’t truly stopped. Bottling up these feelings is not the same as overcoming them, and the truth of that has nestled itself in the pit of your stomach. But regardless of your clearly less than effective methods, you need to consider whether allowing Asahi back into your life is the right thing to do. 

He could leave again. There’s nothing that could stop that from happening. 

And that is what leaves you afraid. To expose your soul and allow him back in means the opportunity to be hurt again. And are you capable of handling that?

A large crackle from the furnace captures your attention, and it gives you a moment to look around the ash-stained, wonky workshop you’ve made your home. You became one of the most sought-out blacksmiths in the land on your own. You built a reputation and a skillset on your own. You forged a life and a passion within these walls with no assistance. Asahi wasn’t here. He didn’t help you with any of this. No, he was gone. 

And if he left again, you would still have this. What you’ve accomplished will not change, and neither will you. And if he still wants you, calluses and all, then maybe he truly is the one for you. 

He’s no longer looking at you when your eyes land on him again, and you feel your body soften. His head hangs in defeat, body slumped against the chains. He thinks you’re going to kick him out, and be done with him once and for all. 

And he’s prepared to respect that decision. 

Your chest swells. This ends now. 

You storm over in only a couple of confident strides, barely giving him time to acknowledge your movement before you’re cupping his cheeks in your hands and pressing your lips firmly against his. You both sigh immediately, the familiarity of each other’s mouths not lost on either of you. The determination from your march over from the bench dissipates as your body melts under his taste. Lips like a warm red wine, soft and supple against your own, moulding to the shape of your mouth. Oh, you’ve missed this. 

You can feel him lightly tug on the chains, desperately trying to get closer to you. Your hands slowly glide along his jawline, shifting to lace your fingertips in the softness of his hair. He sighs into your kiss as you press your body against his, melting against the hard planes of his stomach. 

Asahi was strong before he left, a capable and formidable knight, but he’s practically carved from carbon now and you delight in the feel of him against you. He angles his head as best he can, deepening your kiss and nose breathing heavily on your cheek. 

After another moment, and a gentle tug on his hair, you pull back and stare into eyes that are glazed over with adoration. “I love you, Asahi. I always will, no matter how far and long you go, and no matter how much it hurts to see you leave. My heart goes with you, and I will always be yours.” 

You can’t help the soft whine that crawls up your throat as he presses his lips back to yours, feverishly moving against your mouth as if he’s afraid you’ll be the one to disappear. Your fingers tighten against his scalp, nails tangling as you let your tongue move to meet his. 

One of your hands regrettably leaves that silky mane to trail down and rest on his chest, palm pressing gently against the iron pectoral that’s been begging for your touch the minute he stepped in. Your mind whirls at the concept of this beast of a man being yours, all his strength and body ready to answer your beck and call. The rush of power flows through directly to your core, filling you with a confidence you never knew you possessed. 

Between sharp kisses he tries to ask, “Pumpkin… Unchain me. Please. Let me…  _ Ah!  _ Let me touch you.” 

You smirk against his mouth, teeth latching on to his lip for a second. “No.” 

“N-No?” He pulls back, those dark brows frowning yet again. 

A dark power winds its way through your body, begging you to put this man under the mercy of your will. He doesn’t get off this easily. He has several years to make up for. You lean down slowly, and tenderly drag your tongue up the rigid column of his throat. “You need to learn about consequences, my love.” 

You swear on your blood you’ve never seen him go such a dark shade of red. The thrill of power his flush gives you has your toes curling, that darkness within you begging for you to play with him more. You know he’s expecting the blushing young woman of his youth, inexperienced and willing to bend to his every whim. But like you’d said, you’re not the same woman. And if he wants to be with you, he’s going to learn to enjoy that. 

Though from the way he gapes at you, it won’t take much convincing. 

You take a step back from him, eyes half lidded as you trail a finger down the ripples of his shirt. Reaching out with your other hand, you take each side of his collar in your grasp and pull with all your strength. A satisfying rip sound breaks the silence of the workshop, his firm chest bared to you. 

You quickly bite your tongue to prevent your gasp, warmth pooling between your legs as you take him in. Tense, heaving abdomen muscles stare up at you and tan skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat from your parry before has your mouth watering. You  _ need _ him at this point. 

Your eyes lock on the small spread of brown hair across his chest, and you can’t help but run your fingers across the skin. Asahi presses his eyes shut, relishing the feeling of your touch and honestly hoping you see the tightening of his pants. 

Of course you notice, and you make a decision not to indulge his needs just yet. First, he needs to suffer. Letting your hand unfortunately drop, you turn and saunter to the empty bench a few steps away from him. Hiking yourself onto the counter, you spread your legs daringly and lean back to rest on your elbows. 

“My darling,” you begin, a sultry purr lacing your words. “There are many fine ways I can punish you for your unfortunate abandonment.” 

The harsh tug on the chains, flex of his biceps, and curling of his lip tell you that you have him exactly where you want him. By the time you allow him his fill of you, he’ll be practically mad with need. You begin to unlace the front of your shirt, ignoring his desperation, and continue with your little speech. “I could have simply rejected you. I could have kicked your ass into the next millennium. I could have refused you any future service. But no… What I have planned is far more fun.”

You push the fabric of your shirt aside gently, letting your skin of your perked breasts be visible to him in all your glory. The chains rustle further, he’s tugging harder with each attempt. You smile devilishly, that darkness in your core licking at a deep point of pleasure deliciously. You have him exactly where you want him. 

Ignoring him for another moment, you focus on removing your belt, parting the opening of your britches just enough for him to see the dip of your navel. His arms begin to quiver with the tension, and you can’t help your grin as you shimmy out of your britches and undergarments, spreading your legs and moistened cunt to him in full. 

Asahi’s eyes practically bug from his skull, mouth dropping open at the sight of you before him. Feeling confident in yourself for the first time outside of your trade, you dip two fingers between your slick folds, drawing some of your own heat onto you and bringing it to your lips. 

Your tongue swirls your fingers, tasting your wetness and practically feeling the need for Asahi to be inside you.. But not yet. You’re not done with your game. 

Once cleaned of your juices, you look him back in the eye and tell him, “My darling I will be taking away my first orgasm since your return. You will not be receiving that honour.” 

“No! No, please - Pumpkin, let me-”

“Yes please, my love. Beg some more,” you whine, spreading the lips of your pulsing pussy with your thumb and middle finger, tenderly dipping your index deep inside you. 

You slowly pump your finger in and out, throwing your head back to bask in the ecstasy of your own relief. Thighs shaking in anticipation, you gently roll your hips against the bench, thrusting that finger deeper inside you with every movement. A soft moan breathes past your lips, joined shortly by a rumbling grunt from your lover as he fights against the chains with all his might. 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ you whimper as you add a second finger, swallowing down Asahi’s desperate pleas as he’s stuck watching you pleasure yourself intently. 

Your arousal is practically unbearable, the need to orgasm growing far quicker than you had hoped. A rattle of chains entices your smirk once more, and your cunt clenches around your fingers at the distinct growl emanating from him. Fuck, he’s never growled like that before. 

The sound sits in your core, the feeling of his stare spriling you into a whining mess of pleasure. You’re enjoying his suffering, wanting to see him tortured even more. With a breathy voice, you tell him, “You won’t break those chains. I forged them myself.” 

“ _ Calabazita,  _ I will tear this building down if it means I get to taste you.” 

Your toes curl as the sinister depth of his threat, knowing he’s completely feral and ready to devour you whole. With little effort, you slip a third finger in and pick up the pace, letting your thumb rub your clit in sensual motions. 

You press harder against your clit, your hips jerking at the response. Asahi is still begging, practically thrashing against the chains to get to you. 

You let your head roll back again, throat exposed to the ceiling as you let your moans run wild, throwing them in Asahi’s reddened face as you push yourself to orgasm. The worn nails of your free hand have to dig into the wood of the table as you reach your peak, thrusting onto your own fingers as your body pushes to that edge and over. 

You cum around your fingers, cunt clenching tightly and heart pounding in your throat while you let out a strangled cry. You haven’t had an orgasm that good since Asahi left. The thrill of having him watch you, with no option but to beg and plead, turned you on far more than you could have ever dreamed. The satisfaction drags itself up your spine like a welcomed friend, it’s dark pull lulling you into a need to do  _ more _ . 

You sit up, crossing your legs as you smile sweetly at Asahi. He glares now, nostrils flaring and jaw flexing as he clenches. He looks tense, and your grin only widens. 

Standing, and trying to not wobble, you saunter over to stand just out of reach. His eyes drink you in, look glazed with a deep wanting. He wants to claim you officially, like he once had. He wants to be so far inside you that your souls become one, and you’re finally back in his arms. 

You hold up the hand you’d used to fuck yourself with, regarding your fingers’ stickiness in the amber glow of the furnace. “Was that as good for you as it was for me, Asahi?” 

He exhales deeply, licking his lips before weakly asking, “May I taste you now, Pumpkin?” 

“I think I can allow that… You’ve been such a good boy for me.” You reach out tenderly, stroking his bottom lip lightly with the slick-stained fingers. He groans deeply as his mouth parts, allowing you to tenderly press the pads of your fingers against his warm, wet tongue. The feeling of his tongue twisting and gliding around your digits has your legs tightening, attempting to quieten that demanding throb of your cunt that yearns for him. 

Feeling generous, you use your other hand to quietly unbuckle his sword belt and scabbard, letting it fall to the ground and permitting you access to his tight pants. You can see the outline of his hard cock through the thin material, and you waste no time in undoing the restricting threads and parting them for your hand. 

He groans mercilessly against your fingers as you reach in, wrapping your hand tightly enough to pull that thick cock from his britches. The head is swollen, beaded with anticipated precum, and looking ready to be swallowed by the depths of your throat. 

You pull for fingers free of his mouth, shifting to hold his proud chin tight as you dip in to press a lingering kiss against those lush, parted lips. After a tender second, you pull away slowly, enjoying his lean to try and capture your taste once more. You let your eyes duck down again to that beautiful, proud cock, and murmur to him, “My love, you look good enough to eat… And my, have I missed this meal.” 

He gasps at your filthy words, cock twitching in response as well, and you lick your lips before sinking to your knees. Asahi watches you intently as you pump your hand on his cock a few times, smearing the head with the glistening precum, then lean to press a chaste kiss against it. 

His hips buck at the contact, and you know he won’t last very long. It’s been as long for him as it had been for you. You dip low, opening your throat as you try to fit as much of him as you can in your throat. You relax your jaw, feeling the tip hit the back before you pause, letting your mouth once again become accustomed to his impressive length. 

After a second you feel comfortable enough to move, slowly sliding your mouth up and down the shaft of his cock, his soft moans ringing in your ears. Asahi’s moves slowly move automatically, thrusting gently into your mouth as your tongue drags against the underside of him. While he moves, you use your hands to tug down his britches further and expose that thick, round ass to your workshop. You clench the cheeks in your hands, use the momentum to thrust harshly into your throat. 

His groans get loudly with each thrust, and you can feel the cock twitch on the inside of your cheeks, letting you know that he’s already on that brink of collapse. The way his hips begin to stagger, his thrust getting sloppy, and the panting from above you shows you just how much he needs this. He doesn’t just want to cum down your throat, he wants to be possessed by you. And not the you from the past, the one that would suck his cock to the degree he wants. No, he wants you now. The one that takes charge and shows him what kind of fulfilment he should be receiving. 

You cup his balls in your hand, gently tugging on them to push him over that final edge. He cries out your name, followed by a stuttering and weak echo of that precious nickname only he is permitted to use. Hot cum coats your throat, and you’re sure not to waste a delightful drop as you pump him dry, sighing as the stickiness warms you down to your core. 

He’s still rock hard as you pull him out of your mouth, clean from cum as you suck your bottom lip. Standing, he watches you in awe as you brush a strand of hair behind his ear, leaning forward to press your swollen lips against his. You inhale, nose softly grazing his cheek as the comforting smell of peaches fills your senses. 

You whine at the pleasant scent, craving him from head to toe all that much more. One hand crawls up that soft, yet firm chest, and rests tightly around his throat - not quite restricting him, but leaving him completely at your mercy. 

You’re tender and loving with your touches, the only sounds in the room are the heavy breathing between you both and that calming burn of the furnace. He’s been so good for you, so patient, it’s time to let him have his fill. With your other hand you reach up and jerk the hook, releasing the chains from his tired wrists and setting your love free. 

Asahi doesn’t even pause to stretch out his sore arms before he immediately scoops you up by the thighs, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hikes your legs around his waist. You gasp against his mouth, hands immediately rushing to his hair, pulling his mouth tight against yours as his tongue slips in to taste yours. 

In a few short steps he has you backed against that same bench from before, laying you down only to slip his cock to the base inside of you. “Oh, fuck!” you cry, nails latching on to his biceps as he thrusts mercilessly into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Pumpkin, I’ve missed your warmth so much… I needed to-  _ oh gods _ \- I needed to be inside-  _ ah!-  _ you…” You don’t give a shit that he’s rushing, and you don’t have time to appreciate the explanation. You’re completely enraptured with the feeling of the ridges of his cock dragging against your walls, hitting every crevice of your insides so you’re practically screaming for him. 

His thrusts aren’t coordinated, they’re loose and sloppy, he’s just relishing the feeling of his love against him once again. You don’t mind either, legs hooked around his waist as he fucks into you to the hilt with each and every roll of those strong hips. 

Sweat beads on your brow, skin slick against his as you both pant in synchronisation. You watch him as he fucks you, cheeks flushed as you’re enthralled by the love you have for this man. From his body, to his sweetness, to his courage, and his kindness… He owns your heart, and you’ll happily let him keep it. 

Your chest swells with love, and with a cheeky grin you pull on his biceps, tugging him down until you’ve forced him to lie on his back. You straddle his waist, girthy cock still buried deep inside you, and begin to ride him. You can feel him hit the tender weak spot of your core, making sure to raise and drop your hips in a way that he hits it each time. 

Asahi’s hands rest on your hips, guiding you as you bounce wordlessly onto him. You have to brace your hands beside his head as you approach your climax, leaning down to bury your head in his neck. He kisses aimlessly up and down your collar bone, whispering sweet words of love and praise as you feel his own hips stutter against you. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warns, teeth grabbing a hold of your earlobe. 

You can only whine louder, tightening his thighs around his waist as your orgasm comes at you at an alarming rate. With a few small pushes into your cunt you’re pushed to ascendence, eyes rolling back into your skull as you feel yourself clench around his cock and force his milk to spill inside you. 

You scream for each other, grabbing a hold of one another as intensely as you can, riding out each other’s earth-shattering orgasms. Your whole body is singing as you pull him out of you, collapsing beside him as the still-hot cum leaks onto your thighs. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, curling you against his chest. Your own arm encircles his stomach and you press gentle kisses to his pectoral. It takes a few moments for you both to calm down, and you’re tracing patterns into his chest hair when he finally says, “Before all of… that, I had wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hmm?” You hum, content in your bliss to listen to whatever it is he wants. 

You’re too hyper aware of your current situation. 

Asahi is back. 

He didn’t abandon you.  _ And you’re ok with that.  _

You always knew, even in the darkest stages of despair that there’d never be another man for you. Though at the time, you conceded that it was because you no longer believed in the concept of love. You thought he’d ruined love for you eternally. 

But that’s not the case at all. 

He was simply the only one for you. And you know this. You’ve always known this. 

Asahi is the love of your life. Your knight in shining armour that smells like peaches and taught you how to read. You want to spend the rest of your days with him, waking up in his arms and going to sleep with intimate good night kisses. You want him in this life of yours you’ve created, and you’ll be damned if he ever gets away again. 

“I wanted to ask your permission to formally court you… King Tobio is already aware of my intentions, but I wanted to ask you officially. I want to make you my wife someday soon, Pumpkin, if only you’ll have me.” 

You don’t know how he expected you to react, but bursting out laughing wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. You smile up at Asahi, feeling the weight of several years lift from your heavy shoulders, ready to move on with the rest of your life. 

Leaning up to kiss him for what will be the first of the many for the rest of your life, you murmur words that are sweeter than even peaches, “Warn me before you disappear again, and you’ve got yourself a deal my love.” 

  
  



End file.
